


Head down to toes, a reaction to you

by gonergone



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M, awkward phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13432665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonergone/pseuds/gonergone
Summary: "We definitely should have been doing this weeks ago," he said, totally off topic, because for real."Simon," Bram scolded, but even his scolding was starting to sound breathless, and yeah, this wasn't going to take long at all.





	Head down to toes, a reaction to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plumeria47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumeria47/gifts).



Simon settled into bed, automatically checking his phone's battery. Last night it had been at 10% when Bram had called, and that wasn't the kind of stress he normally invited into his life purposely. He'd made sure to charge it during dinner, and even _charging his phone_ so he could talk to Bram had made something warm uncoil in his belly.

The phone rang right on time, and that was one of the many amazing things about Bram that always made Simon smile: his ridiculous punctuality. It was definitely the best part of having a boyfriend. You would think that after months of dating Simon would have gotten used to Bram's _Bramness_ , but Simon was beginning to think he might never get used to any of it. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to.

He'd been thinking of giving Bram a nickname in his phone: Friday I'm in Love, maybe, or True Love is a Rose, if he wanted to go with an Elliott Smith callback. But seeing Bram's name always gave him such an unreasonably happy thrill that he hadn't gotten around to changing it.

"Hey," he said, not even trying to hide how happy he was. He could picture Leah rolling her eyes at him, but couldn't even bring himself to care. _This_ was definitely the best part of having a boyfriend. 

"Hey," Bram replied, and Simon marveled (as usual) at how cute Bram could sound in one word.

They always texted before dinner, but Bram had a strict no-text policy while he was studying, and the few hours they were incommunicado always felt like _years_. Simon was always surprised he survived it.

Bram cleared his throat. "Did you finish that essay for Wise?"

Simon sighed. It was one of the things on his to do list that he'd been ignoring all week. "Not yet," he said honestly. "I'll finish it tomorrow morning. I stopped being able to concentrate on Willy Loman's existential crisis days ago." Instead, he'd spent the last couple of hours mentally putting together then perfect mix for Bram, but he hadn't quite finished and he kind of wanted it to be a surprise. "You're done already, aren't you?" 

Bram's silence was answer enough, and Simon knew he was blushing again. After a minute, Bram gave a small cough. "Well, I still need to revise it."

"Uh huh." Simon couldn't help grinning, because _genius boyfriend_.

"So…" Bram started, and Simon could practically feel his need to change the subject. A good boyfriend would help him out instead of embarrassing him with compliments, no matter how much Simon thought those compliments were deserved. Sometimes being a good boyfriend was more difficult than it should be by all rights. But, if Bram wanted to change the subject…he moved the phone to his other ear. "Um. What are you wearing?"

There was a beat of silence before Bram snorted. "Really? What am I _wearing?_ "

"No? It seemed like a good segue."

"Maybe in 1970."

"Well, I am a classic rock kind of guy sometimes. One of the many things you love about me."

"That's true, and yet." Simon could imagine Bram shaking his head.

"What would you say, then, as a not-classic rock guy?"

"How about this: are you touching yourself right now? Because I am."

Simon's mouth dropped open and he was instantly aware that all the blood in his body was rushing for points south. He hadn't expected Bram to be any less awkward at this than he was, but he'd underestimated Bram again.

"I definitely am now," he answered honestly.

Bram's chuckle was low, his voice silky. "Tell me about it."

And that was just unfair, because there was no way Bram had done this before. He was obviously a natural, and thinking about that made Simon start to ponder all the other things he might be naturally good at, and he began to seriously worry that his first foray into phone sex might only last thirty seconds.

A fucking _fantastic_ thirty seconds, but still.

"We definitely should have been doing this weeks ago," he said, totally off topic, because for real.

"Simon," Bram scolded, but even his scolding was starting to sound breathless, and yeah, this wasn't going to take long at all.

"Sorry." Simon took a deep breath, trying to get his brain back on track, which was hard – difficult – at the best of times. "I'm, um, I'm lying on my bed, and my pajama pants are pushed down around my knees – wait, you probably don't want to picture that, it's not sexy."

"No, it actually is," Bram said, and he was unquestionably breathless now. "I can picture you, and it's definitely sexy."

Simon closed his eyes, hand moving faster. "I'm using my right hand, stroking pretty, um, firmly, and squeezing behind the head and – " he tried to remember any phrases from the gay porn he'd been surreptitiously checking out, but none of it was coming back to him. Figured. "Um."

"Are you thinking about me touching you?" There was a catch in Bram's voice that was nearly enough to send Simon over the edge.

"Yeah. And me touching you." Thinking about it all the time, actually.

"I'm imagining my hands are on you, and I'm – I'm using both hands, one squeezing the base and the other moving faster on the shaft. And I'm moving down your body do I can wrap my mouth around you –"

And that was it. That image was enough, because it was one that Simon had been cherishing for weeks.

He knew Bram could hear him gasping for breath, but sharing a wall with Nora meant that Simon had long since learned how to keep everything quiet. After a long moment, he pulled himself together enough to ask, "Do you want me to tell you what I'm going to do to you?"

"You don't have to," Bram told him, and his voice was as unsteady as Simon's had been, "I already, um. Came. Imagining you."  
Which meant, Simon thought, that he might be better at this than he gave himself credit for.


End file.
